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Campbell steps up, placing a calming hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Please tell me more about your display, Alice. What made you think of it? And do you have any training in design?”
“Um…” Alice looks to Raymond.
“It’s okay, Alice. Mr. Moore—” Raymond pauses when I clear my throat. “I mean, Bell and Chase”—he looks visibly pained at using our given names in front of his staff— “were just saying how much they loved your design.”
Alice’s body visibly relaxes, one hand reaching out to hold on to the edge of the display table. “Oh, that’s good. I really need this job.” She takes a deep breath before stepping back and looking at her display. “I’m really glad you like it. I’d been thinking of it for a while. I thought if I could make the shoes look comfortable, more inviting, then maybe more people would try them on. And let’s face it, once you try these shoes on, you aren’t going to take them off.” She looks pointedly at the Jimmy Choos on Campbell’s feet. “And that’s when I got the idea to make the shoes float. Look lighter than air.”
Though that sounds a bit far-fetched to me, the look on Campbell’s face tells me she is one step away from swooning over Alice.
“That’s brilliant.” She turns to Raymond. “Is it possible to look over the sales numbers for Jimmy Choos since the display has been up?”
“Of course. But without specifics, I know for a fact that we have had to order more stock than normal. The inventory manager informed me yesterday. That is what Alice was stocking before she came out to join us.”
Alice blushes, her fair skin pinking from the top of her hairline and disappearing into her high-necked blouse. It makes her look even younger.
“How old are you?” Campbell’s blunt question takes us by surprise. “Sorry,” she says, her own blush highlighting her cheekbones. “Didn’t mean to be so forward.”
Alice laughs. “It’s okay, I’ve been getting asked that a lot since I got my hair cut. I think it’s the bangs.” She raises her eyes, trying to look at the thick fringe lying on her forehead. “I’m twenty-six.”
“You don’t look a day over eighteen,” Campbell says. “Where did you study?”
“I’m sorry?”
“What college did you attend?” Campbell asks.
“Uh, I didn’t.” Alice looks down at her feet. “College wasn’t in the cards for me.”
Campbell smiles at her kindly. “That’s okay. In fact, that makes your idea and application even more impressive.” She turns to me for a second, then back to Alice and Raymond. “Would you excuse us for just a minute?” Campbell takes the coffee carrier from me, placing it on a display table, then drags me by my arm to the other side of the shoe department. I say drag because I slow my steps. I tell myself that it’s so Campbell doesn’t turn an ankle in her heels, but I know it’s to stretch out this moment, enjoy her arm linked in mine.
Sometimes I think flannel-wearing lumberjacks are going to come and revoke my man-card.
“I want her,” Campbell says once we are out of hearing.
My eyebrows shoot straight up my forehead, while a knot forms in my stomach. I hadn’t known what she wanted to talk about, but it wasn’t that. I guess her age question makes sense now. “Um, well, you technically aren’t a Moore’s employee, so I guess there’s no problem if you want to ask her out.” I know we work together, and therefore getting involved is never a good idea, but the thought of Campbell playing for the other team and being truly out of reach romantically seriously depresses me.
Campbell stares at me for a solid minute, unblinking. Then she surprises me yet again by saying, “You’re an idiot.”
“Excuse me?”
“I can’t believe you just said that.” She leans back on one heel and crosses her arms over her chest. The universal pissed-off pose. I’m used to seeing it from my parents, but when Campbell does it… let’s just say all of me comes to attention.
“That makes two of us.”
She snorts. It’s delightful.
“I meant I want her for my team. My marketing team I’m building for you. She would be a better asset to Moore’s in display than in sales.”
“Oh.” If I blushed, I’d be fire-engine red right now.
“Yes. ‘Oh.’” She rolls her eyes, and the goofy look on her normally serious face makes me smile. I smile wider when I realize not all hope is lost for this spark of attraction between Bell and me.
Her eyes narrow. “What’s that smile for?”
“Oh, nothing.” I wink, my smile remaining unchanged. As is the semi in my pants.
“It looks like you’re up to something.” She sounds wary, unpleased with my cheerfulness.
If I were honest, I’d tell her I’m incredibly happy that of the two of us, I’m the only one well-versed in the art of female cunnilingus. Or that I’m currently trying to strategize a way to both get to know her better and for her to climb me like a jungle gym naked. However, I’m pretty sure saying any of that on the very first day of us working together makes me a total douche. Hell, just thinking about it probably qualifies.
